Tuesday, January 23, 2007

Free Time.

Somewhat inexplicibly I find I have some free time on my hands. The project that has taken up so much of my working hours over the last few months has now been finished, agonised over and sent-as of yesterday. The next one does not start until the following week. So now look. Free time.I should probably be very pleased about this, but frankly having free time at the end of January is not up to much. Everyone else is working, and I feel like I'm playing hooky.So far today I have dribbled about, read some of the papers while listlessly munching wholewheat toast, played with Puddy, pondered lunch and pondered why anyone would think Jane Goody has a career to begin with. Then I pondered what to do between now and lunch. So far I have come up with nowt.The paramour has suggested I take this time to relax, kick back, maybe start packing. Right ho.But apart from that.I hate daytime television. I could read I suppose, I have a ton of books to catch up with. Then there is the cinema. I don't mind going to the cinema alone, I quite prefer it sometimes, but a quick glance through entertainment.ie shows nothing I would get out of my jammies to go and see.There's the gym, that should take up a good hour of the day, shouldn't it?Maybe I'll go into town. I can ring the Spaniard, she's a lady of leisure. Go for lunch, that takes care of lunch. Then there is only four hours or so until knocking off time anyway left to fill. Rinse and repeat until Februrary 1st. How does Paris Hilton do it?Ennui, how are ye?

29 Comments:

Anonymous said...

Ah Jean Ennui, wrote some good plays in his hanging around time. 'Aunty Gone' was one, though I think that was an adaptation of some Greek stiff's work. Mind you his last play was called The Navel so I suppose he ran out of inspiration towards the end.

Treasure this ennui, fmc. Take this ennui and put it in a golden box then lie and cuddle it on the sofa, with a glass of something grown up. For once the nippers get here all that will dissolve and you will find yourself screaming hollowly to yourself for just a minute, a minute of peace and quiet with no toys to pick up and no laundry to do.

I went to town and ate scallop dumplings and soft shell crabs cooked in chilli and garlic, god help anyone who has the misfortune of my breathing on them. I also had a mooch around the sales. Velly enjoyable afternoon indeed in the end. Feeling most portly now. I might just lie down with a cat and the latest Vanity Fair.Why does Demi Moore never get any older I wonder?Sam, no moves until Feb.

Plastic surgery and empty-headed, talentless boyfriends barely past the shitting-yellow stage. Demi Moore, that is. Either that or a magic painting (she has to have Bruce Willis store it to stop Ashton drawing a moustache on it).

As regards the ennui, I'm with Sam. If that uterus is getting antsy, treasure it. I have only enough ennui for work time now. No time at home for such luxuries. Baby Trousers is a demanding taskmistress.

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About Me

I'm a bouncy, opinionated, messy haired marathon running (!) bibliophile. I wear high heels and have delightful ankles. I'm a devoted drinker. I want a French Bulldog puppy whom I shall call Batman and dress in capes on occasion.
I would also like a pug, whom I shall name Mister Woo. He can remain capeless, but I will make sure he wears a diamante collar at all times.
Both dogs will submit to repeated snorgling and high pitched squeals that only a dolphin would normally tolerate.
I hate Reiki/psychics/mystics/frauds with all my liver. Also, I'm firmly against Jazz and poetry/poems/pomes/ peoms or any of that stuff. I believe in the healing power of ginger.